Pirates and Club Security
by RaindropsOnDeadRoses
Summary: Instagram one-shot from my wincest page, @codependencest. Dean is impatient. Sam just wants to take care of him.


Dean pulled Sam closer by the loops of his pants, obviously getting frustrated. "Sammy, c'mon, no one knows us here. It's not like we'll ever see any of 'em again. You're such a damn exhibitionist anyway, why does it—"

Sam cut Dean off, laughing and shaking his head. "De. I'm gonna say this one more time, only because repeating it is the alternative to punching you, and I happen to like your pretty, pretty face. We know _someone, everywhere. _The answer is no."

"Fine," Dean grumbled, turning away from him to face the street.

Sam rolled his eyes, taking a step forward and putting a hand on his brother's arm. "Look, man. It's Halloween. There're kids everywhere. I don't want any of them to see."

Dean sighed forcefully enough for Sam to feel it and reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. You're right."

That was when Sam noticed that Dean's hands were shaking. "Hey…" He stepped even closer, turning Dean around to face him and dropping his voice so that only his brother would hear despite the people walking up and down the sidewalk around them. "Baby, are you okay?"

Dean breathed out and looked down, shaking his head. "I'm… Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Sam didn't budge. "No, talk to me. What's…?" He trailed off, then, realizing that he knew what the problem was. "That bad?" he asked softly, taking one of Dean's trembling hands.

Dean raked his fingers through his hair, refusing to meet Sam's eyes. "'M sorry. We just haven't… I mean, I was sick for two weeks and you caught it, 'course, so you were sick for two weeks, and we've been so busy _this _whole week, and you just… You look so damn good right now."

Sam stared back at him, eyes wide. "If you… think that you can handle this for just a little longer, then we'll go on to the party, say hi and bye, and just head out early. But if you can't, tell me. Tell me and we'll find somewhere to go right now. I'm so sorry, big brother. I didn't even think… I mean, not that I don't miss you, too. I do. So goddamn much. I just haven't really had time to slow down and think about it lately, I guess, pickin' up the stuff for our costumes and callin' everybody to let 'em know we'd be there tonight after you finally convinced me to go, and…"

Dean really thought he could hold it together. He did. Until Sam played the 'big brother' card. He knew, then, that it was all over. He leaned up, brushed Sam's hair away from his ear, and whispered desperately, "I need you."

The expression on Sam's face said he'd known what his brother was going to say and that he may have broken down if he'd been wrong. He took Dean's hand and began pulling him down the street, not slowing down but keeping an eye out.

"We parked the other direction," Dean said, but didn't try to stop Sam. Just kept following him.

"I know," was Sam's simple response. When he finally saw something seemingly suitable, he slowed and then came to a stop, fishing his ID out of the tight waistband of his pants.

Dean followed suit, breathing heavily. He didn't care what Sam was up to, long as it got the job done.

Both men flashed their cards to the bouncer and made their way inside.

Sam grinned. Perfect. Not just dim lighting, but damn near pitch black. Eardrum-bursting music. And an empty corner booth.

Dean was pulled to the back of the club, toward a leather bench seat lining the wall, and pushed down once they got there, Sam straddling his hips. He groaned at the contact, head falling back against the top of the cushion.

Sam bent down to nip at his brother's ear, knowing that even at this proximity he would still have to raise his voice to be heard over the music when he said, "You're right. I am an exhibitionist. Good chance no one's gonna come over here, but if they do, I'm not gonna stop. Sure you can handle that?"

Dean nodded vigorously.

Sam tipped his head back, bringing their mouths crashing together. He licked over his brother's soft, full lips, gently biting at them on occasion and grinding his hips down when Dean would unintentionally buck up, whimpering a little each time he felt their cocks touch through the thin fabric they were both wearing. He worked his way down from there, kissing all around Dean's ear and then down his jawline and neck, stopping when he encountered a problem. "You're gonna have to take this off," he practically yelled, quickly becoming annoyed by the noise in the room.

Dean unzipped his costume jacket, tossing it on down the booth a little to his right.

Sam got right back to work, picking up at the base of Dean's throat and continuing on to his collarbones, then further still to his chest, and stopping to flick his tongue over one of his brother's nipples.

Dean bucked up against Sam, this time intentionally. He needed contact. Needed more.

Sam actually had the audacity to laugh. He brought one hand down to still Dean's hips, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth and saying, "We'll get there. Gimme a minute." Sam worked his way over to Dean's other nipple, latching his thumb and forefinger onto the one that his tongue had previously be toying with.

Dean didn't give a fuck what Sam said about it now, just began thrusting up at a steady rhythm and moaning below the music. He was going to come just like this if he wasn't careful.

Somehow, Sam got the message that it was too much and stopped, intent on finally getting down to business. Except… He froze. He'd been planning on giving his brother head, but it really was very, very dark inside the club. For Dean's sake, he hadn't been willing to take it further than that, but maybe… "Will you fuck me? Right here?" he asked his brother honestly, licking the shell of his ear as he did so.

Dean shuddered, reaching between himself and Sam to press his hand to his crotch to try to calm himself down, because, if he was being honest, that had gotten him dangerously close. He was in no shape to refuse anything right now.

Sam could tell, apparently, and began removing his skin-tight pants, a twisted thrill running through him as he did so. He was about to be bare naked, riding his brother's cock. In public.

Dean's pants didn't come off, they were simply undone. It would make the dressing process easier. Those things were a bitch to put on.

As soon as Sam's were off and discarded, Dean realized something. "Sammy… we don't have—"

"It's okay," Sam assured him quickly. "I'll be fine without it. Just use spit and be easy opening me up."

Dean wanted to protest, afraid of hurting his brother, but was damn near positive that it would get him nowhere. So he brought his right middle finger to Sam's mouth and watched him suck on it until it was sufficiently wet before pushing his brother off his lap and kneeling on the ground in front of him. "Stop me if it hurts," Dean called up to him.

Sam nodded, spreading his legs to give Dean access. At the first touch of his brother's finger against his hole, Sam's cock jumped. But he didn't move. Didn't touch it. Just forced himself to relax as much as possible so that he could let Dean in.

It took a little longer than usual, but Dean finally worked in the first finger, and gave Sam a minute to adjust before pulling out and raising two to his mouth for him to get them wet.

Sam did, slightly in awe, as always, at the earthy, slightly coppery taste of himself on his brother's skin. He was still contemplating it when Dean's fingers were back at his entrance. The tip of the first finger slipped in easily this time, but when the second one joined in, only to the first knuckle, Sam felt a fairly strong burning sensation and an uncomfortable heat low in his stomach. He winced, reaching down to catch Dean's wrist and still him.

Dean's eyes flashed up to his immediately. "You okay? Need me to stop?"

"Just for a minute," Sam said, offering him a small smile. "I'm alright."

"Tell me when you're ready." Dean stroked Sam's thigh in a soothing motion, waiting for the green light.

After a few moments, Sam gave Dean's wrist a gentle squeeze and let go, letting him know that it was okay to keep going.

Dean's movements were slow and deliberate, for which Sam was thankful, and after probably ten minutes, Dean was able to comfortable stretch his fingers apart and slide them in and out. He glanced down at his leaking cock, then back up at Sam and asked with a smirk, "Wanna suck on this, too?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I think you better handle that part. You might get a little distracted."

"No fun," Dean complained, but pulled his fingers out and slicked himself up, with his own spit this time, positioning the head of his cock at Sam's hole.

Sam looked downright terrified for about half a second but forced himself to calm down again and closed his eyes. "Sorry. Go ahead."

Dean kept waiting for a moment, making sure that Sam was okay, and then lifted him up from the seat, sliding back under him so that they were in their previous position. "So you can have more control," Dean explained. "If you're hurtin', you can stop."

"'Kay," Sam agreed, poising himself over Dean's cock and beginning to sink down about a centimeter at a time.

It was taking all of Dean's willpower to stay still, but he was fighting through it. There was no way in hell he was gonna hurt Sam if he could help it.

Once Sam was settled, something occurred to him. He couldn't see from his position if anyone was coming. For some reason, that made the whole thing even hotter.

For a while, it was uneventful. Mainly just Sam trying to get comfortable and Dean trying not to move. When Sam finally got going was when things got… interesting.

When the first spectator came, Dean thought he was club security. Then, Dean realized, he was _dressed _as club security. It was a Halloween costume. The kid was a total twink, twenty-one at the very oldest, and a fake ID may have gotten him in. He was gorgeous. Dean indicated to Sam that there was someone behind him and he ceased the gradual rise and fall of his hips to turn his head to the side. "Hi," Sam called to the boy, the complete opposite of gun-shy. "Wanna sit? There's probably a better view from this side."

The kid blushed but took a seat beside Dean, distancing himself a couple of inches and staring Sam up and down.

Dean was practically glowing with pride. "Pretty, ain't he?"

The boy nodded.

"What's your name?" Sam asked, beginning to move again.

"Dallas," the boy offered timidly, barely meeting Sam's eyes.

Dean groaned, hands traveling all over Sam's torso to make up for not being able to move the lower half of his body. "I'm Dean" he panted. "This is my baby boy. His name's Sammy."

Dallas blushed a deeper shade of pink. "Hi."

Sam rocked back, grazing his prostate, and cried, "Oh, _fuck yeah_," taking one of Dean's hands and wordlessly instructing his brother to scratch down his sides.

"So, um… How… How much do you guys charge?" Dallas asked, digging a small black wallet from his back pocket.

Dean looked at him, blissed out but still obviously confused. "For what?"

Sam laughed, low and dark, and readjusted himself so that his cock wasn't touching Dean's stomach. He didn't want to get too close yet. "He's talking about for this. For watching. Aren't you?"

A sheepish nod.

Dean was the one to laugh this time. "We ain't entertainment, sweetheart. Keep your cash. We're just—Jesus, Sam, slow down, you're gonna kill yourself—we're just here because we couldn't wait long enough to get back to our car. And he likes it when people watch. Don't you, baby?"

Sam nodded, not having any part of his brother's demand to slow down, and was about to say something else to Dallas when someone else who happened to be walking past to the back exit of the club stopped. This one was a girl dressed in a pirate costume.

Neither Sam nor Dean was sure how it happened, but she pulled out her phone, sent a text, and within the next twenty minutes they had a full audience.

By this point, Sam was paying absolutely no attention to them. He'd loved it at first, and still did, somewhere in the back of his mind, but he was far too focused on needing his brother to touch his cock to care.

Dean could tell that he was getting desperate and contemplated teasing him but decided against it, wrapping his hand around Sam's shaft and beginning to pump up and down at an even pace.

Dallas, still the only one sitting, couldn't take his eyes off Sam.

Neither could Dean.

Neither could anyone else in the small space.

He went wild, but so gracefully that it was astounding. Every movement was beautiful. Sound. Always so neat and precise that Dean didn't even have to try to keep up.

By this point, there were a few seasoned spectators who could see the shift in his physicality and began honest-to-god cheering when they became aware that his orgasm was building.

Sam laughed a little at the attention but didn't let himself get distracted, knowing Dean was on his way, too. "You can fuck me," Sam told him. "I know you need to. I can handle it. I swear."

No one but Dallas could hear him, but the kid's face was officially beet red.

Dean held onto Sam's waist, looking up into his eyes to search for insecurity. "Sammy, you have _got _to tell me if—"

"I will," Sam interrupted. "I promise."

Dean gave him a singular nod and began to roll his hips up, gently fucking into Sam's tight heat.

They both moaned like they were dying, Dean still pumping Sam's cock, Sam still going insane on Dean's.

People were really getting into it now, and Sam was pretty sure he somehow heard the 'ding' of a video starting on a phone over the music.

He didn't give a fuck. He couldn't even focus on it. Not now. His orgasm was building so rapidly that it threatened to rip through him at any second, but he forced it back, waiting for Dean.

"Are you ready?" Dean asked, right on cue. "I'm about to fucking blow."

"God, yes," Sam confirmed. "C'mon, De, hard. I can take it."

Dean didn't question it this time, just began fucking Sam harder, lifting his ass slightly in the air to get better leverage.

Sam groaned, fingers finding purchase in Dean's short hair. "Fuck, Dean, yeah. Just like that. Jesus Christ, gonna come so fucking hard for you. Don't stop. Oh, god, De. Oh my fucking god…"

When Sam went over the edge, Dean did, too, unable to hold back any longer. All he could do was pray that his brother hadn't been wrong about taking it harder because he had no control over his body at this point. It was basically on autopilot. Apparently they were putting on quite the show, too, because everyone surrounding them was flat out screaming.

It was like a tsunami, both of them crashing through it, but once they did, Sam basically collapsed onto Dean's chest.

A few people looked concerned, coming closer to make sure he was alright, but Dean gave them an exhausted smile and said, "It's just been a while. He's fine. Give him some space."

Dallas left for a moment but quickly returned with a glass of water and handed it to Dean.

"Thank you," Dean said, taking it from him and lifting Sam's chin with his forefinger. "Hey, baby boy. You're alright. Take a drink for me, okay?"

Sam blinked a few times and nodded, allowing Dean to tip the glass to his lips.

Once it was empty, one of the girls brought them a wet towel to clean up and another offered to help Sam stand so that Dean could get him dressed.

Sam thanked them both profusely, leaning on the brunette (Chloe, she'd said, when he asked her name) and trying to even out his breathing so that he wouldn't be so dizzy while Dean had him lift each leg and worked his pants slowly back on.

Once they were both dressed again, Dean made sure that Sam was okay to walk and then began navigating him through the crowd to the exit, but not before turning back to wink at Dallas, still seated at the bench.

Once they were outside, Sam secured an arm around Dean's waist. "You're fucking awesome, you know that?"

Dean chuckled. "Sure. I'm Dean fuckin' Winchester."

Sam elbowed him playfully and then put his arm back, feeling Dean's come to wrap around his shoulders. "Seriously, that was…"

"We'll do it again sometime," Dean assured him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

"Really?" Sam asked, turning his head to catch a glimpse of Dean's expression.

Dean shook his head, grinning. "Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but, yeah. Really."

They walked in silence for a few moments before Sam asked, "Hey, Dean? What're we gonna tell them about the party?"

Dean shrugged, pulling Sam closer. "The truth."


End file.
